(We open in a hotel in Florida. Three familiar but older bodies enter into one small but elegantly appointed bedroom. Peter, looking thin and pale under his round spectacles, enters first in a simple black shirt, black jacket, and black trousers.)

Peter: (He bites his lip) I can't believe this. This can't be real.

Mike: (He's now a plump businessman with thick, longish white hair; he wears a black suit and has his ever-present aviator sunglasses on his head) There's somethin' wrong here. And not just the fact that Davy's gone. (He growls a little) That kid could be a brat, but I'm gonna miss him like hell.

*Micky, sporting a fedora, dark sport jacket, and dark slacks wanders in after them. He leans against the wall and just stands there, looking at the floor.*

Peter: (He goes to Micky) Mick, you knew him best. Even after that tour last year ended, you stayed in touch with him. This has got to hurt you most of all.

Micky: *Mutters* I just can't believe it...

Mike: I can't, either. (He turns to the others) I didn't want to say it at the funeral, around his family an' his girls, but...I smelled danger. (Narrows his eyes) Devils.

Peter: (He gulps) I didn't want to say anything either, especially not to Micky or to Jessica, but...but... (finally spits it out) Davy didn't have an aura. He should have. Even those ghosts we met at the English manor house in the 70s had auras. Davy didn't. His was gone.

Mike: (Grounds out) The Sapphire Dueling Sword is missin', too. I asked Jessica about it. She had no idea where it was.

*Micky puts a hand over his eyes. He lets out a whine.*

Peter: (He leads Micky to the bed) You're still in shock.

Mike: (Growls) Of COURSE he's in shock! His best friend, who was in perfect health, just died of a massive heart attack!

Peter: Michael, this is no time to be shouting at anyone.

Micky: *Shakes his head* No...he...he didn't have a light!

Peter: No, he didn't. I saw it too, Mick.

Mike: Mick, my nose ain't what it used to be, but I can still sense danger, an' I'm sensin' it now.

Micky: *Frowns* They took it, didn't they?

Peter: (Nods) I think so. (Quieter) Guys, I didn't tell you because I didn't want to frighten any of you, especially since we hadn't talked in a while, but...do you remember when I got really sick a while back?

*Micky nods, still frowning.*

Mike: Yeah.

Peter: (He closes his eyes, then opens them) Sheila came to me then.

Mike: Shit.

Micky: *Weakly* What?

Peter: Thank god Valerie and Austin showed up before she could get her claws in me. She thought I was dying... (small smile) Shows what she knows.

Mike: And Daph, when she died...

Peter: Daphne's light was the normal pink at her funeral. (Bites his lip) At least Davy's with her now. He was crushed when she died of cancer three years ago.

Mike: No, he isn't. If Sheila has his soul... (he frowns) Remember what happened with our ancestors? Sheila and Zero captured their souls, and they weren't able to go to their women until we freed them five hundred years later.

Micky: *Balls his fists and looks up at the other two men; his eyes are wet...and VERY angry* Can't we do something?!

(That's when we hear the phone in the room ring. Mike growls and grabs it.)

Mike: If it's another damn reporter... (Into the phone) Hello?

Sheila: (We can hear her on the other end of the line) Hello there, White Knight. How are you feeling today?

Mike: Sheila, you bitch! What did you do with Davy's soul?

Sheila: Oh, lots of lovely things. I'll bet you'd like to know more about it, too.

Mike: You've got the Sapphire Duelin' Sword, too.

Sheila: It's so easy to take a sword off of a small man who can't move.

Mike: You little BITCH!

Sheila: Thank you for the compliment, White Knight. You're still my favorite. We could have been something together.

Mike: Where are you keepin' him?

Peter: (Frowns) Michael, your aura. You can still turn into a wolf, you know. (Narrows his eyes) That's Sheila on the phone, isn't it?

Sheila: Meet me at the abandoned house on the end of West Seashell Avenue. You'll know it by the gates with the numbers "66" on the front.

Mike: We'll be there, Sheila. An' we'll get Davy back.

Sheila: We shall see, my White Knight. Ta ta! (She hangs up the phone. Mike grabs the phone out of the socket and throws it across the room. It hits the wall with a noisy clatter.)

Micky: That went well.

Peter: Mike, you're going to have to pay for that.

Mike: I god-damn don't CARE! (Roars and turns to the others) Sheila has Davy's soul!

Peter: It was the only explanation.

Mike: It may have taken us 45 years, but that bitch is goin' DOWN!

Peter: Michael, I'm not sure any of us are in condition to fight Sheila. We may have supernatural powers, but we're human. (Softly) Davy proved that.

Mike: What choice do we have? Remember what happened when our ancestor's souls were left with Sheila and Zero for 500 years? Do you want our Davy to end up like that?

Peter: No, but I don't particularly want the rest of us to join him. That's what Sheila wants, what she has wanted for 45 years.

Micky: I'm going.

Mike: Me too. (He concentrates - his Diamond Broadsword appears in a flash of light)

Peter: Someone has to make sure you two don't turn into wolves and run through buildings. (He concentrates; his Emerald Crossbow appears)

*Micky's Ruby Dagger appears in his hand. He smirks at Peter.*

Mike: It's just gonna be us. There ain't no time to call the girls in. (Grins) Hey Mick, is Urse still in one of your cars?

Micky: No, she isn't. *pulls out a cell phone* Say hi, Urse.

Ursula: (Grins; we quite clearly see a woman in white with short white-blond hair in the phone's monitor) Hello, gentlemen.

Peter: (Chuckles) You did finally take her out of the car.

Micky: *Sighs* And I get teased mercilessly as it's claimed that I handle Urse more than my own wife.

Ursula: Lauren is usually fairly understanding about it. Your children and grandchildren...

Mike: How many of those are you up to now, anyway?

Micky: *Smirks* Jealous?

Mike: No. I know Jamie ain't interested in gettin' married, an' Robbie's been havin' problems with his woman...

Peter: Guys, we could sit here all night, but if we're going to do this, we have to get going. (He nods at the rapidly approaching sunset) It's getting darker. I don't want to know what we'll find in the daylight, much less at night.

Ursula: He's right, gentlemen. I can feel my sister...and I don't think she's been so happy since the Black Plague.

Mike: All right. (His famous small smile) Looks like the MonkeeMen are back together for one last time to save one of our own.

Micky: *Eyes Mike* And thank goodness we gave up those stupid costumes decades ago. I thought then that your skinny legs were bad in those leggings, but that gut would take the cake...and I bet it takes a LOT of cake.

Mike: You ain't exactly one to talk about gut. How long did it take decades of stuffing your face to finally catch up with you? Besides, I'm too busy for exercise.

Micky: I'm not as big as you are.

Mike: You ain't skinny, either.

Peter: Guys, this is a really bad time to fight about this. Could we discuss this in the car?

Mike: Says the one who is still almost the same size he was in the 70s.

Peter: You haven't been sick.

Micky: You were thin before that, Pete.

Peter: Unlike you two, I not only work out, I've taken care of my body for most of my life. I still do yoga every day. It was a literal lifesaver a few years ago.

Mike: I don't have time for all that.

Peter: You're too busy sitting behind a computer.

Mike: I got a business to run!

Peter: I've been telling you this for 40 years, Michael. There's more to life than working.

Mike: I don't just work at the computer, you know. I write.

Peter: I know. I saw your eulogy for Davy on Monkees.Net. Writing another book?

Mike: I had a lot to get off my chest.

Micky: Are we going, or what?

Ursula: Argue later, gentlemen. Leave now.

Mike: Yeah. Come on, MonkeeMen. We've got to rescue our Lord of the Manor from the evil clutches of the Devil Woman one last time. (He heads out first)

Peter: (Shakes his head) And he's still giving speeches.

Ursula: Be careful, gentlemen. Not only do you know Sheila's tricks, but you're no spring chickens yourselves.

*Micky shrugs and proceeds to cluck.*

(Peter and Ursula can't help it. They crack up...and are both still laughing as they head out.)

(Cut to Micky's rental car. Peter sits next to Micky while Mike squeezes into the back seat.)

Mike: Geez Mick, could you have gotten a smaller car? I don't feel like enough of a clown yet.

Micky: I guess I could've, but then I'd have to listen to even more complaining from you than I already am.

Peter: Michael, did she tell you exactly where the house is?

Mike: Abandoned house at the end of West Seashell Avenue. Says there's a big "66" on the gates.

Micky: What, she couldn't find another 6?

Mike: Maybe she waitin' to put on the other one.

Peter: I'm getting incredibly bad vibes here, guys.

Ursula: As am I. All of you be on the alert.

(They finally pull up to the slightly rusted gates surrounding a grove of orange and lemon trees. There's a large "66" in the middle of the gate. The gate instantly opens the moment the car pulls into view.)

Mike: Looks like they're ready for us.

Peter: (Gulps) I hope we're ready for them.

(They make their way across a circular driveway, past more orange trees. Mike frowns and rubs his stomach.)

Mike: Guys, I'm gettin' that ol' devil-warnin' stomachache again. Haven't had one of those in ages.

Peter: And the aura on this place has "evil" written all over it.

Mike: And I'm sensin' danger big-time. (Sniffs) It's faint, but I smell Sheila.

(Micky finally pulls up in front of an enormous Art-Deco mansion. The door is closed, and there's no one outside or in view.)

Mike: Great. Guess we couldn't expect her to roll out the red carpet for us.

(That's when the door suddenly opens. We hear a "come in..." faintly on the breeze.)

Micky: That is not inviting.

Mike: (Smirks) Why don't we go in another way? A way she ain't expectin'.

Peter: (Nods) We can just use our heads.

Mike: And no Micky, that don't mean you can ram a hole through the wall.

Micky: Then I take us inside. You know what to do, guys. *they disappear and reappear inside, in what looks to have been the living room*

Mike: (Looks around; the furniture is a little dusty but intact, mostly Art-Deco antiques with a few new places) Yeah, Sheila's here, all right. I smell her.

Voice: Come, guardians....

Mike: (Clutches his broadsword) I'm gonna gut that bitch if she's done anythin' to Davy's soul!

Peter: Peace, Michael.

Ursula: He's right. You need to use your heads and your powers if you want to rescue David.

Mike: (Looks over his shoulder; growls) Let's go, Monkees! (He starts towards the next door)

Peter: Michael, wait! (Groans) Damn it. You'd think he'd learn to curb that temper after 45 years.

(Mike flings open the next door...revealing an airy, large conservatory in the back of the house. A small figure surrounded by a blue light is being kept under the sunlight, in a glass box filled with hot sand.)

Micky: *His eyes widen* DAVE!

Sheila: (She emerges from between the huge plants growing beneath the windows; she looks slightly older and now wears a fashionable dark sheath dress and very high heels, but otherwise looks much the same as she did in the 70s stories) Hello, gentlemen. (Reveals the Sapphire Dueling Sword) Looking for this?

Mike: (Growls) Let his soul go, Sheila!

Sheila: Oh no. Not now. I've wanted your souls back for 45 years. I'm not going to lose them now. Especially now that I have the chance to get all of them.

(Davy's spirit watches helplessly from the glass box in the sunlight.)

Sheila: (Smirks) I don't think any of you could defeat me now. (Pokes Micky's middle first) You're almost as soft as Nesmith. Done anything with yourself lately, besides eating?

Micky: Watch it, lady!

Sheila: (Turns to Peter - her smirk gets wider) I came very close to having you, Bard. You're barely able to hold up that crossbow. That cancer really did a number on you.

Peter: (Narrows his eyes; huskily) I'm stronger than I look.

Sheila: (Turns to Mike; laughs) Oh, this is so funny! The great White Knight is the size of a house, and probably as fast as one.

Mike: I ain't that fat! I'm...big.

(Peter rolls his eyes.)

Sheila: Don't even use the big-boned excuse on me. Have you actually moved in the past twenty years?

Mike: I went on tour with these guys in the late 90s.

Peter: (Mutters) Which you dropped out of after a few months.

Sheila: Oh yes, the touring. (She turns to Davy, who watches them in his box) How well did that lovely tour you did last year go, Lord of the Manor? Ended early, didn't it? Something about a "glitch."

Peter: It was just a glitch!

Mike: (His turn to mutter) Glitch, my ass. You guys probably started fightin' again.

*Davy just shakes his head and looks down at the sand covering his legs.*

Peter: Davy... (He starts to Dave, but Sheila holds the Dueling Sword on the glass box)

Sheila: Now, the Lord of the Manor's element is water. Do you know how quickly direct sunlight and hot sand can dry out most water? (She turns to Micky) You're from California, land of beaches and deserts. How fast does hot sun and hot sand dry out a water source...and what would it do to the soul of your friend?

Mike: (Spits out angrily) BITCH! LET HIM GO!

Sheila: How long do you think your friend's soul will last, Savage? >

Micky: You're killing him all over again!

Sheila: Au contrare! I'm wearing him down. When he's worn enough...I'll corrupt him. (Smirks) And all of you.

*Micky growls, then launches himself at Sheila.*

(Which takes us into our first romp, "It's Not Too Late." Micky’s attack takes Sheila by surprise, knocking them both to the ground. However, several demons run out of the kitchen, food in hand, before Mike and Peter can get to Davy's soul.)

Sheila: (Shoves at Micky) Good lord, you're bloody heavy!

Micky: Am not!

(Mike makes his way through the demons, shoving his sword at them as well as he can. He's slow but sure. Peter's aim is as good as ever - his green arrows turn demons into flowers or butterflies.)

Sheila: I wanted to lose a few pounds myself, but not being steamrolled by a savage! (She tries to reach for his Ruby Dagger.)

Mike: Mick, watch out! (He stomps on her hand; she growls)

Sheila: Don't any of you ever exercise?

Mike: Can't you think of better things to do than insult our weight?

Micky: Yeah. It's getting pretty old.

Peter: (He points the Emerald Crossbow at her) Give up, Sheila. We won't let you corrupt him.

Sheila: You say you all have the goods to save Jones. Prove it.

Mike: What if Mick an' I took you on?

Sheila: (Smirks) It'll be like attacking a pair of marshmallows.

Mike: That's what you think. (He slashes at her; she meets him with her own onyx-handled sword, the dueling sword now on a scabbard at her hip)

Sheila: (Ducks around him) You're too slow, White Knight! You really need to leave the Videoranch more often.

Mike: Oh yeah? (He attacks her again, this time pushing her further back.)

*Micky goes at her as well.*

Sheila: (She meets Micky this time) Maybe you'll be more of a challenge. (He's a bit faster and able to duck around her more than Mike is) Hey! (Micky ducks around her again) Stay still! (He pokes her in the back) Ouch!

Micky: Haven't you learned YET that I don't know the meaning of that word?

Mike: Damn right. You ever seen our concerts? He don't even sit still for those.

Sheila: Oooh, you two always drove me CRAZY!

Mike: Good. (He goes after her again; she almost can't parry him)

*Micky swipes at her back again.*

(While Mike and Micky distract Sheila, Peter sneaks towards Davy. He puts his hands on the glass...then pulls it back and shakes it.)

Peter: Ouch! Oh Dave, I have to get you out of there. I can see it in your aura. You're going fast!

*Davy manages to get one hand to the glass.*

Peter: (He grabs a standing lamp from the floor) I hate to do this to an antique, but I have no choice. My arrows will never break through that. Davy, stand back.

*Davy pulls back and turns his face away.*

Micky: Do it, Pete!

Sheila: (Looks up and sees what Peter's doing) No! Noooo! Stop! (Micky grabs her arm and Mike blocks her way.)

(Peter slams the back end of the lamp into the glass box. It shatters with a resounding "crack," ending the romp and sending Davy and a box-load of sand spilling out into the living room.)


Peter: I know how we can defeat Sheila. (Turns to Micky and Mike) What's the one thing that she hates most of all?

Mike: Micky bein' faster n' her.

Micky: *Elbows Mike* Music.

Peter: Davy...I know you aren't...all there, but could you possibly handle some performing?

Sheila: No! Don't you dare! (But Mike pokes her back with his Diamond Broadsword)

Mike: (Frowns) I haven't played the guitar in ages.

Peter: Once a musician, always a musician, Michael.

*Davy nods once.*

Micky: We'll do one of Dave's songs!

Mike: Yeah. (Turns to Davy) "Daydream Believer," kid...um, Dave?

*Davy nods again.*

Peter: (He concentrates - their instruments appear, including a black guitar for Mike and drums for Micky) Up for the drums, Mick?

Micky: I'm always ready!

Peter: (Makes his bass appear) Let's play one last concert, Monkees.

Mike: (As a tambourine appears in Davy's hands) Ok, lead singer. Lead us off.

Sheila: No! You little... (She lunges for them...but is met by Mike's guitar in her face)

Mike: Don't even, Devil Woman. You've done everything possible to us, our mentor, and our families for almost a half a century...and before that, for five centuries. It ends here. Now. This moment.(Nods at Davy) Dave, hit it!

(Davy begins singing "Daydream Believer." Mike concentrates on playing the song, something he hasn't done in years, and doesn't look up at all. Peter smiles and dances around, as happy as if it were a real concert on their tour the year before.)

*Micky plays, a sad smile on his face as he watches Davy's spirit sing & play.*

(Sheila just screams and screams, but the song drowns out her shrieks of agony. She grows fainter and fainter every minute, like Zero did in the end of "The Devil and Michael Nesmith." There's the sound of another tambourine and another voice singing in the background. Mike frowns; he knows those sounds. There's a light from Micky's pocket...and Ursula appears in a blast of light, singing along as well.)

Ursula: (Turns to Sheila, who is now almost just a dark outline surrounded by sparkles) Release the Lord of the Manor's soul, sister. You are defeated. This story will end here.

Sheila: (Growls) No...no...I'm the devil...can't...

Mike: (He hands Davy his Dueling Sword; much to his surprise, the spirit takes hold of it easily) Come on, kid. Let's finish this. Once and for all. (He concentrates...and blasts white air into Sheila from the Diamond Sword)

(Ursula blasts more of her blue-white light.)

Peter: I hate hurting any living creature this way...but it seems to be the only way to stop you from attacking us. (Grins at Micky) We really are getting too old for this shit. (A burst of green light and flowers writhes around Sheila's form)

Mike: Dave, Mick, you're on...one more time.

*Micky grins, pointing his Ruby Knife at Sheila. Fire shoots from the knife.*

*Davy moves forward, sword down but pointed at Sheila. He gets close and stabs Sheila through the "heart" with his sword.*

(There's a huge blast of water around Sheila. She screams bloody agony...but her screams fade and is replaced by a blast of black light so enormous, the guys are all blown into Micky's drums.)

Peter: (He's the first to emerge) Ouch. Ow. Ok, did anyone get the license plate number of that cosmic blast that hit me?

Mike: (He moves from around the bass drum) Damn back...

Micky: *He's sprawled on the ground; raises an arm and waves it* I'm okay!

Davy: *He’s still standing, the blast having not affected him; walks over to the other three* Thank you, mates.

Mike: (He stumbles over to Davy) Dave...I wish...

Peter: Davy! (He impulsively flings his arms around him...and much to his surprise, can hold him. He sobs) Davy, there's so much I want to say...

Davy: Mates...

(Ursula glows behind them, just watching with a sigh. She knows this is going to be very hard for the others.)

Mike: Kid... (sighs) Dave...I'm sorry I ain't been much of a friend these past couple of years.

*Micky stands behind the other two.*

Davy: You're here now. That's all I need.

Mike: You be good, ki...uh, Dave. Don't cause too much trouble up there.

Peter: (He makes a parachute appear behind his back) This is so you don't fall out of a cloud. (Hands it to Davy)

Davy: Thanks, Peter.

Ursula: (She gives him a small squeeze) We're going to miss you terribly, Lord of the Manor. I still have work to do here.

Davy: Thank you, Ursula.

Ursula: (She looks up at Micky, hiding behind the other two) Micky...

Mike: (Frowns) Man...

Peter: (Wipes his eyes) Oh Mick...

Micky: *Quietly* If I don't say good bye, you can't leave.

Davy: *Finally gives Micky a small smile and shakes his head* I have to leave, good byes or no.

Micky: I can't.

(Ursula just puts his hand in Davy's. They're both enveloped by a warm blue-red light.)

Ursula: Micky, partings are some of the hardest things we can ever do in this world...but the truth is, as long as we keep those we love in our hearts and in our memories, they can never really leave us.

*Micky nods as a tear rolls down his cheek.*

(Peter immediately puts his arm around Micky. Mike puts his hand on his shoulder.)

Peter: I remember, in the first "That's Entertainment" movie that came out in the 70s, Liza Minellei said something like "Thank god for film! It can capture a performance in an instant." She was talking about her mother, but it fits in this case, too. We still have our memories, Mick...and our music and the specials.

Mike: Monkees ain't never really gonna die, Mick. Hell, there will still be kids watchin' the specials an' listenin' to our music after we all pass on.

*Micky nods again and swipes at an eye.*

Ursula: (Gently touches Davy's shoulder) It's time, David. Daphne will be here for you in a minute.

(That's when we see a small, pink light. The light lands...revealing an older Daphne with short white hair and slightly more delicate features.)

Daphne: Davy! I've missed you so much! (She smiles) Let's go home.

Mike: Bye, Dave. Hope we'll see you again someday.

Peter: Save a spot on the heavenly choir for us!

Micky: *His voice is shaky* Make sure they'll let us in up there!

Davy: *Smiles again and waves* Good bye, mates.

Daphne: (She takes Davy's hand) Davy....

*Davy kisses Daphne, pulling her to him.*

(As he does, there's a small burst of pink and blue energy. When it subsides, we see a blue and a pink light dancing around each other, flitting around the guys heads. The blue light gently caresses Micky's cheek before it follows the pink light out the door. The three men, Ursula, and the camera follow the lights onto the porch. The guys wave to them until they fade from view. As they do, Lauren and Emma, both dressed in normal 2012 clothes and otherwise looking as they did in the last story, walk up to the remaining Monkees.)

Ursula: Hello, ladies. This is the end, isn't it?

Emma: (Nods sadly) Yes. We're not going to do any more with this series. Ever. At all. We meant what we said back in "Monkees and the Big Store." We really did burn out on it.

Lauren; And, unfortunately, with the real death of Davy...we just can't do this anymore.

Emma: Even this story was really hard to write. (Turns to the camera, a wide and sad frown on her round face) As most Monkees fans know, the real Davy Jones did die of a massive heart attack on February 29th, 2012. After his death, I came up with this story as a way of getting some of my feelings out...and truly ending our involvement with these stories.

Peter: We're going to miss you girls.

Mike: Darlin'...

Emma: No, honey. This ends here. Even if we return to writing Monkees stories, it won't be in this universe.

Ursula: (She nods) It's time. It's past time. You're right.

Mike: Yeah. (He turns to the camera first, sheaving the Diamond Broadsword) I guess it's farewell here, folks. Thank you for your continued patronage.

Peter: Though this series is ending, the stories will remain archived on the site for all Monkees fans to read.

Micky: And thanks for putting up with us.

Emma: We would especially like to thank the real Monkees - Michael "Mike" Nesmith, Peter Tork, Micky Dolenz, and the late David "Davy" Jones - for inspiring our work, and for being four of the finest performers to blur the lines between reality and fantasy.

Lauren: And for being total and utter pains in our asses at times. *Soft smile* But we still love ya.

Ursula: (Nods and walks between the ladies...but looks at Micky with a smile) And remember everyone, that though people may come and go, love will keep them alive in our hearts and memories...for love truly IS the ultimate trip.

Micky: *Nods* Yeah...

(We fade out on a shot of Micky as Mike puts his hand on his shoulder and Peter throws an arm around him for a hug.)

(Fade in on the end credits sequence. It's longer than any of the others, as it's for the entire series - long enough for a medley of the Davy songs "Dream World," "Daydream Believer," "It's Not Too Late," and "You and I" over scenes from this and other Davy-themed Dream World stories. As "You and I" fades out, we get the usual "A Raybert Production" over the boys playing "Daydream Believer" with Davy’s spirit...and then a final fade over the words "Dedicated to David "Davy" Jones, 1945-2012: Our Lord of the Manor" as the music and image ends all together.)